


Birthday Kiss

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Fluff, M/M, Mer May shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 19:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14722143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Noctis was used to a variety of birthday gifts, but Nyx always gave the best.





	Birthday Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



There was no real rhyme or reason to most of the gifts. Each birthday was the same, each year had companies scrambling to put their latest products in his hands like an unpaid advertisement to be caught by every photographer and news agency in the kingdom. Each year had a slew of goodwill gestures from the neighbouring kingdoms—allied or not. 

Tenebrae sent flowers, and the bulbs that could be planted in the Citadel gardens. They sent berry wines and sweet ingredients, presented by the Tenebrae prince at the celebration dinner. Desserts and delectables set out as part of the feast, where Noctis could only just slip away with a handful of leftovers from the kitchen in the aftermath. A bottle of wine tucked into his stolen treats. 

Cavaugh sent the finest blades they could forge— he had twenty of them now, and they had started when he was ten. A collection of sharp weapons, beautifully crafted by the best smiths the Cavaugh warriors could willingly part with. Drautos presented it himself, told him about the details carved into the hilt, the sigils and symbols; prayers to Alexander and Diablos and all the wild, deadly Astrals that roamed those lands. This year was a kukri, sheathed against his hip as he wandered the quiet halls with his pilfered prize from the kitchens and wine cellars. 

Altissia sent statues and art and all the things meant to ingratiate a king with a culture saturated by consumerism. They sent bits of history and seafaring stories. Last year, there was a net— not functional, as Drautos was always quick to point out— crafted and gilded and weighted like any other net. But it shimmered with the shines of silver and gold ropes, it had jewels woven in place of lures. And the weights were no simple sea glass that could be set adrift if needed, no hollow buoys tethered together to keep the thing afloat. He had strung that one up over the private pool buried deep in the Citadel. This year’s gift of jewelled star maps would cover the walls until the constellations shone across the pool water in the dim light. 

“You awake?”

Galahd had only ever sent one gift. A creature from their shores. One that he had wanted to refuse, to free, to ignore all diplomatic courtesy and send off into the wilds. The forested nation too proud to offer anything more after that one gift years ago. There was a standing invitation to the hotels, to the beaches of white sands, to the tourist areas of the quiet nation. But nothing more presented to the prince of Lucis in such a grand gesture as the others. 

“Get anything good, little star?”

Noctis had kept the creature, because he had to. He had been twenty when it was presented to him— a tank of murky water, flashes of midnight dark fins and clever arctic eyes. He had wanted to free the thing, and keep it safe all the same. 

“Some wine and food. And something for you.”

He learnt that it's name was Nyx. 

That Nyx was clever and smart, and more that a bit mischievous. That the Galahdian emissary had stripped him of his decorations and weapons and culture when they stole him from his own waters. That he had been caught only because he had been too busy saving others to notice when the net was closing around him. 

Noctis had brought him everything he asked for. Beads when his hair started growing back, the chains he found in Galahdian markets— thing decoration the vendor told him were marks of warriors and princes. He had recruited Ignis in finding the fish, some living, others from the morning markets. The living ones now moved around the large pool in lazy arcs, exploring the decorations and installations that had taken ten years to build. The water filtered through a mock-waterfall, where Nyx had taken to lounging, where he could watch the doors, the windows. 

“You’re supposed to keep your gifts, you know.”

“Yes, but you'll like this one.”

They had agreed that Nyx wasn't going to be on display. That he wasn’t some pet to show off— an attraction for the royal aquarium. And the pool was three times the size any tank could have been in that little space the aquarium occupied. 

Instead, they’d bide their time, and work to find a way to release Nyx back into his own waters without fear that his people would be hunted again. 

There was a bay they had opened for Nyx’s people. But it needed to be prepared now. It needed to be protected. 

Noctis set the food and bottle down at the edge of the pool, the knife with it. He started to undress, and smiled as Nyx slipped over. His decorations were simple— pieces of glinting metal to catch the light, a chain wrapped around his arm, another cooled around his tail without impeding his movement. As if the black of his scales wasn't enough to make him shine in the water.

“You did pretty good.”

“The knife is for you.”

Noctis slipped into the water, hands already moving to Nyx while the mer examined the blade. At the first touch, the knife was abandoned and Nyx had grabbed him. 

Noctis never thought he'd be prepared for his fast Nyx could move. 

The water closed over them, Nyx weighing him down, trapping him beneath the surface. And Noctis let himself relax— let himself trust the creature, the man he had claimed for himself— as Nyx kissed him. 

They had offered Nyx his freedom before. Offered the bay and secluded coastlines for himself, with the promise of sanctuary for his people once a message could be relayed to them. They had offered him the waters of Lucis, shown him maps to choose his own home from. 

Nyx had always refused. 

Instead he had stayed in the Citadel and helped code the messages Cor and his hunters would spread through the Galahdian waters. He promised he’d take the offer of freedom once his people were accounted for. Once his family was accounted for. 

In the meantime, he had claimed the Prince of Lucis fir his own. 

Noctis gasped for breath once Nyx kept him surface, legs wrapped around the mer’s powerful tail anyway, back pressed against the cold wall of the poolside as Nyx held him in place. In position. The ire at being submerged suddenly was gone before it could take hold, pushed away by the other claiming kisses Nyx was pressing to his throat, his jaw, his lips. “Give me some warning next time.”

“Or?”

“Or I might not come back.”

“As if you could stay away, little star. You’re mine.” Nyx had fangs, Noctus found that out long ago. He had found that Nyx was a hunter, an apex predator in his own waters. He had spent eight years knowing the press and scrape of those fangs against his throat. “You’ll always come back.”

“Bold words for a fish,” Noctis let his hands slip over Nyx’s arms, letting his fingers tangle in the decorative chains, tugging on them lightly to keep focus where he wanted it. “Going to wish me a happy birthday?”

“Thought that was was I was doing;” fanged grin, and Nyx released his hold on the poolside, letting them float free. “Happy birthday, little star.”

Noctis was prepared for the next submerge, the way Nyx pulled him close, the way his tail forced them away from the wall. There had been a seed of magic planted years ago, small transformations to give Noctis an edge within the water. A small touch every year. 

This year, Noctis felt the burn in his lungs following the path of Nyx’s hands. He felt the cuts along his throat, the burn of the salt water. And he could breath, still clinging to Nyx.


End file.
